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CQEHBICHT DEFDSm 



WHEN A SOUL SINGS 



When a Soul Sings 

POEMS 



BY 

PHILIP M. RASKIN 

Author of "Songs of a Jew," "Songs of a Wanderer,' 
"Songs and Dreams," etc. 



▼ 



New York 

THOMAS SELTZER 
1922 






-p^ 



Copyright, 1922, by 
Thomas Seltzeb, Inc. 



All rights reserved 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



©C(.AGi>0084 



NOV -8 1922 

'WO I 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Poet i 

Genius 2 

In Pursuit 3 

A Prayer 5 

The Last Conquest 7 

Progress 8 

Stories 9 

The Road 11 

Far Away 12 

Flowers 13 

Sunset 14 

Rain Through Sunshine 15 

Beauty 16 

Sunshine 17 

Night 18 

Give Me Your Hand 19 

The Breezes 20 

Waves 22 

I Will Stay Out 23 

Rivals 24 

The Secret 26 

A Flower-Soul 27 

The Song of the Storm 29 

A Flower-field in Tennessee .... 32 

V 



PAGE 

Woman 34 

A Wager 35 

Stella 36 

Heredity 37 

In a Car 38 

Is Love Restful? 40 

Once She Was 41 

What Has Become of the Rose? ... 42 

A Short Life 44 

Unconsolable 45 

Just a Drop of Rain 46 

Toys 47 

Happiness 48 

My Days 49 

The Big Fall 50 

Courage 51 

A Wounded Eagle 52 

Apologia 54 

Why? 56 

Can You? 58 

My Boat 59 

The City 60 

Uninvited 62 

In a Summer Night 63 

A Jewish Mother 65 

Eastern Lullaby 67 

Lovers 68 

Nothing More 70 

Love 71 

A Spark from a Window * 72 

yi 



PAGE 

Lilies That Fade 73 

Worth While 74 

For the Messiah 

The Four Points 

The Book 

"Elul" 

A Jealous God 

My God 

White and Blue 

To Our Pioneers 

A Semite ^ 

The Song of the Peddler 9i 

Exile ^^ 

The Esrog ^^ 

The Peddler-Prince 97 

Messiah 



76 
81 
82 
84 
85 
86 

87 

88 



99 



vu 



THE POET 

There is an hour of twilight — 

Half gloom, half light ; 
And in that hour the heaven 

And earth unite. 

And in that hour whoever 

Of God is worth 
Can clasp a piece of heaven 

And stay on earth. 

One day I watched the sunset 

In trance sublime, 
And heard a distant echo 

**Now is the time!" 

And straight came down from heaven 

A glowing dart, 
And pierced with heaven's fire 

My earthly heart. 

Since then my heart in twilight 

To light gives birth, 
SincQ then I fire with heaven 

Men's hearts on earth. 



GENIUS 

If I were to name what is nameless within me, 

The uttermost, intimate, infinite in me, 

That moves me and thrills me, my blood sets on fire, 

And kindles with passion my will, my desire. 

That gives my soul wings that it may in its flight 

Bring heaven to earth from the uppermost height ; 

If I were to name that mysterious power 

That makes me see worlds in a dewdrop or flower, 

That makes me behold in to-day's sun-lit morn 

The gold and the crystal of mornings unborn ; 

That lets me decipher the tongue of the wave. 

And bids me see life sprouting forth from the grave; 

The force that gives meaning to objects around. 

That I might express them in word and in sound, 

The riddle of genius — that gift from above — 

One name I would give it — and that would be love! 



IN PURSUIT 

I will run after youth in its vanishing wake, 

I w^ill run, and maybe, I will youth overtake, 
I will beg it and pray : 
Oh stay with me, stay 
One more spring, one more day. 

For dismal like autumn, and cold is, in truth, 

A life void of youth. 



I will run to my dreams on their vanishing track, 
I perchance will persuade them to come to me back. 

I will say: stay a while. 

And just frolic and smile, 

Life is dry, life is vile — 
And of life but a blossomless desert is left 
Of dreams when bereft. 



I will run after faith — that mysterious boat, 
That has kept me of yore on the life-sea afloat ; 

I will say in my grief 

To my childhood's belief. 

See, a tempest-tossed leaf 
I am cast up and down without purpose or goal 
With a God-empty soul. 

3 



I will run after love that is stealing away, 
And, unbaring my heart, will entreat it to stay. 

Oh, how can you depart 

From such love-yearning heart. 

When you are not a part 
Of myself, but the whole, yea the whole, just the whole 
Of my body and soul ! . . . 



A PRAYER 

God, hast known me 

When I was a lad; 
Did I anger Thee? 
. Was I ever bad? 

Did I fight or tease 
Like the other boys? 

All my mates were trees, 
Flowers were my toys. 

And my mates were good. 
And my toys gave joy, 

For the field and wood 
Loved the dreamy boy. 

God, it may seem strange 
I should doubt Thy plan, 

But what made Thee change 
Boy into a man ? 

Can I keep up pace 

With the street and mart, 
I — a man by face, 

And a child by heart ? 
5 



Look how men around 
Pass me mute and cold, 

I with golden sound, 

They with sound of gold. 

Am I made to hate? 

Was I ever wild? 
God, if not too late — 

Make me back a child. . 



THE LAST CONQUEST 

I dreamt I scaled a mountain peak, 

A giant there I stood ; 
I heard a voice within me speak 

That thrilled my blood. 

"Oh cast your glances wide and far, 

As far as you can see, 
Behold the sky, the moon, the star, 

The land and sea. 

"Behold the triumphs of your mind — 
The heights and peaks you scaled, 

The hearts of rocks, the oceans blind, 
Their mysteries unveiled. 

"The conquered space, the harnessed light, 
The waves transmitting sound ; 

You struggled and you won the fight, 
You sought and found. 

"You catalogued each star, each sun, 

Like volumes on a shelf ; 
One conquest more — and you have done — 

The conquest of yourself. ..." 



PROGRESS 

Through night and through storm we are slowly 

emerging 
From the black sea of life that around us is surging. 

Be Prometheus still bound to the rock of his fate, 
The flame he brought down a new dawn will create. 

Be the earth still engulfed in the shadow of night — 
Love will be victor, and triumph will light. 

The seed sown today a future day gathers; 
The sun of the son is brighter than father's. 

The smiles that today are drowned in our tears 
Are turned into pearls in the ocean of years. 



STORIES 

Oh Grandmother, tell me 
The tale of the maiden 
Whom pirates hold captive 

And chained in a cave, 
The years keep on rolling, 
But faithful her lover 
The vs^ide world is roaming 

His sweetheart to save. 

Oh tell me the story — 

The witch and her caldron, 

And dragons emerging, 

Enormous and wild ; 
But one day when finding 
A babe in the bushes, 
The brutes become cherubs 

And rescue the child. 

Oh tell me the story — 

The maiden whom witchcraft 

Once turned to a vampire 

Who men did ensnare, 
But many years later 
When meeting her lover — 
The hag became woman, 

And womanly fair. 

9 



Oh tell me the story — 
The beautiful orphan 
Whose stepmother cruel 

Left lone in a wood ; 
How tigers and lions 
Have shielded the baby, 
And nursed her, and taught her 

The human and good. 

Oh Grandmother, tell me 
The stories of childhood, 
Where good conquers evil 

And foe yields to friend ; 
In life too I oft hear 
These wonderful stories — 
But hear their beginning — 

Alas, not their end ! 



lO 



THE ROAD 

Heave no sigh for things undone, 
For the prize you might have v\^on ; 
Don't bev^^ail the yester-sun; 
All your yesterdays are gone — 
Gone! 

Are you ready for today? 
Roads are stretching far away ; 
You will stumble, you will stray, 
You will have to pay your way — 
Payl 

Mate thy stafE and guide thy star ; 
Bush or stone be not thy bar ; 
How we fight is what we are; 
Let your aim be onward far — 
Far! 



II 



FAR AWAY 

Far away, far away, where the cloud meets the sea, 
There are heaven-hid treasures for you and for me ; 
On that emerald isle where the sun never sets. 
Where the heart all the wrongs of our earth-life 

forgets, 
Far away, on that golden-lit isle in the East 
No serpent of envy, no jealousy-beast 
Will ever endanger our peaceful abode. 
But stormy and long to that isle is the road. 
For to reach that fair isle we onward must go, 
We must heed not the ebb, and must fear not the flow, 
And thfe mist and the gale we must greet with a smile. 
For none but the fearless inhabit that isle. 



12 



FLOWERS 

Stretches of violet, daisy and pansy, 
Primrose and poppy — I see from afar ; 

Do not the angels look downward and fancy 
Earth is illumined with rainbow and star? 

God made them all when He felt in good humor- 
Star-spangled heaven and flower-decked sod, 

That is why passing a field in the summer 
I see the smile of a satisfied God. 



13 



SUNSET 

Here I stand by the shore all alone, all alone, 

And I watch the sun die in yon dim-growing zone ; 

Watch the ringlets of gold fall and melt in the stream, 

Pale and lone I look on, as I dream my sad dream. 

Do I pity the day to eternity gone? 

Do I fear that black raven — the night coming on ? 

Do I hear in the wind — in its cold-throbbing breath 

The sad echo of fate that is murmuring : death ! 

Do I see in the sunset my youth's dying beam ? 

Pale and lone I look on, and I dream my sad dream. 



14 



RAIN THROUGH SUNSHINE 

Rain through sunshine . . . Blue and deep 
Girlish skies that smile and weep ; 
Waft their bubbled magic rings — 
Pearly beads on opal strings — 
From a cherub's wings. 

Rain through sun . . . From skyey eaves 
Crystals fall on blades and leaves, 
Down the rivulet and spring 
Playing in a golden ring 
In the breeze aswing. 

Rain through sunshine . . . Wide and far 
Bead on bead and star on star — 
Little fairies blue and white 
Bathe in streams of molten light — 
Silver-winged and bright. 

Rain through sun . . . On high, behold, 
Floats a ladder steeped in gold ; 
I will climb it . . . one by one 
Scale its rungs and reach the sun — ^ 
Ere my day is done. . . . 



15 



BEAUTY 

I was waylaid by beauty ... the forest around, 

The vales and the mountains above, 
Were aglow and athrill with bloom and with sound 

And breathing with life and with love . . . 

I was waylaid by beauty . . . My heart standing still, 

Enraptured with wonder and glee; 
The flocks — little elves — gliding down from the hill, 

The valley — a phosphor-lit sea. . . 

I was waylaid by beauty . . . Then saw the sun hide, 
As it mantled the earth in dark-grey . . . 

And I bitterly cried for the day that had died, 
For the beauty that lived but a day . . . 



i6 



SUNSHINE 

I hopped out of bed this morning, 
With the dawn I was awake ; 

And the sun without a warning 
Caught and brought me to the lake. 

Here I watch the sky begilding 
Silver waves with golden beams, 

And my heart is building, building 
Golden castles of my dreams. 

Here I watch the golden fishes 
As they frightless shoreward dart, 

And my golden hopes and wishes 
Dart like fishes in my heart. 

Nest with nest in song are meeting, 
Bird to bird is giving word ; 

And my heart I hear repeating 
All the bird songs like a bird. 

Rills are laughing, trees are glowing ; 

I am young, and strong, and proud 
Trees are glowing, I am growing — 

One day I shall reach the cloud. 



17 



NIGHT 

The moon with fairy fingers 
Has touched my ear and eye; 

A phantom song and singers 
I hear and see on high. 

On every path and turn 
The fairies of the night 

Are shedding from an urn 
A purple-perfumed light. 

And fragrance-full and free is 
The blue expanse around, 

And audible to me is 

Each breath of silent sound. 

And gaily-melancholy 
A voice from star to star 

Calls: holy! holy! holy! 

Through spaceless space afar. 



i8 



GIVE ME YOUR HAND . . . 

Give me your hand — let us wander, 
Roaming past rivers and streams; 

Somewhere, they tell me, a streamlet 
Murmurs of beautiful dreams. 

Give me your hand — let us wander 
High up the mountains above, 

Somewhere a rill from a mountain 
Flows with perennial love. 

Give me your hand — let us wander 
Far where the night-breezes blow; 

Maybe to us they will whisper 
Where fadeless the youth-blossoms grow. 

Give me your hand — let us wander — 

Yond the horizon seems fair, 
Happiness somewhere is hiding — 

Some day we may find out where. . . . 



19 



THE BREEZES 

Shall I tell you why the breezes 

I do know so well ? 
If you promise that my secret 

You shall never tell. 

In my heart once bloomed a garden 

Watered from above, 
In that garden grew a lily 

Men on earth call love. 

But one day the evening breezes 

Plucked my lily fair, 
Then I caught and made the breezes 

Promise me and swear 

That they would its seed and blossoms 

Scatter far apart 
So that little fragrant lilies 

Grow in many a heart. 

Now when twilight comes they gather — 

For they kept their oath — 
And they whisperingly tell me 

Of my lily's growth. 

20 



How In hearts with grief overgrown 
And bestrewn with care, 

Little lilies weed our worries 
Growing sweet and fair. 

This is why I know the breezes 

Of the field and grove, 
For they tell me of my lily 

Men on earth call love. . . 



21 



WAVES 

Here I stand and watch the main — 
And how strangely it behaves ! 

Wave is chasing wave in vain — 
Who can tell the play of waves ? 

Why this hurry and this strife? 

Whither thou, oh nameless wave? 
Is the sea thy source of life? 

Is it thy abysmal grave? 

Am I, wave, of thee a part? 

Or art thou a part of me? 
Is the sea a human heart? 

Or my heart — a human sea? 



22 



I WILL STAY OUT 

I will stay out till morning, 
The moon is on the sea, 

I will stay out till morning. 
The moon is good to me. 

The moon can tell a story, 
The moon can sing a song 

Of moon-lit nights once cherished, 
Of nights forgotten long. 

I will stay out till morning 

Until the sun arrives — 
Not every night is moon-night. 

Not every dream survives. 
(On the Aquitania near France) 



23 



RIVALS 

Yes, I love you, 

But you have rivals — 

Of my shipvirrecked youth survivals. 

Flovirers 

Born in twilight hours, 

When heaven w^oos and wins our earth, 

Who from their birth 

Live half way 

'Twixt plant and fay — 

I love them, for I know them well. 
And many a charming tale 
These little rainbows of the vale 

To me in childhood used to tell. 

Stars 

Across the azure bars. 

That often waylaid me by night, 

And lifted me from off the sod 

On stairs of pale-blue light 

Towards the garden-paths of God. . . . 

Larks, 

These purple sparks 
Darting through the air. 
Light, and blithe, and fair, 
24 



Pouring out from their bosom 
Raptured rhapsodies of blossom, 
And shaking off their wing 
A new-born spring. . . 

Woods 

In all their moods 

Of dawn, and dusk, and light, and shade. 

With hue of leaf and bloom, and blade. 

Rills 

Oozing through the hills — 

Blood from the heart of a rocky giant, 
And defiant 

Running amock by field and glen— ^ 
To gladden hearts of men. 

Yes, these are your rivals — and many more 

In sky, in air, on main and shore. 

To them too 

I shall remain true, 

For no new love my love for them can 
stem; 
And if your pride 
Be satisfied — 

You may share my love with them. 



25 



THE SECRET 

Fleeter than sunbeam 
Swifter than lightning, 
Faster than arrow 

Ever can dart 
Travels the message 
Wordless, unspoken, 
Lover sends lover. 

Heart sends to heart. 

Be it unsounded. 
Be it unuttered. 
Be it unwhispered 

Fearing the crowd, — 
Towers and mountains. 
Deserts and oceans 
Take up their secret, 

Shout it aloud. 



26 



A FLOWER-SOUL 

I had a baby sister 

Who scarcely yet could walk, 
And "Mum, I luve the gaiden" 

Was almost all her talk. 



It was a brilliant summer, 
Our garden blossomed fair, 

And every God-lit morning 
I found the baby there. 

She played with little pansies 
Stead little girls and boys, 

She loved the little pansies — 
Her playmates and her toys. 

Then Autumn came with showers, 
With chill and sullen skies; 

My darling baby sister 
Forever closed her eyes. 

The pansies, too, were faded, 
The garden stood in shade; 

But lo! one single pansy 
Refused to pale and fade. 
27 



It bloomed as in the summer, 
It grew and glowed and smiled- 

I knew it was my sister — 
The soul of a flower-child. 



28 



THE SONG OF THE STORM 

Have you ever heard the tale 
Of the birth of Mighty Gale? 

Once a son of the Above 

Cloud the Proud 

With a daughter of the sea 

Wave the Free 

Fell in love. 

Now the sky 

Is bright and high, 

And the sea is deep and rich, 

But the oldest — which? 

As to this the sky and sea 

Never could agree. 

So the parents did object 
To the bride and groom elect, 
And the sea 

Ordered daughter Wave never hence 
To see 
Master Cloud 
Vainly proud — 

Whose attentions gave offence. 



29 



But man in love is undismayed, 
And brave in love — a lovely maid, — • 
So, 

When the skies 

Closed their eyes. 

And the deep 

Fell asleep; 

Cloud and Wave 

Would behave 

As young lovers free and gay. 

Flirting she w^ould run away; 

He vs^ith laughter 

Would run after. 

Till he caught her 

And he brought her 

And he made her stay. 

Then he faced her 

And embraced her 

Till his shaggy head vv^ould rest 
On her heaving foam-M^hite breast — 
Thus they played till break of day. 

But at night when the winds you hear weep, 
While the thunders are laughing aloud. 

Sky and Sea are aroused from their sleep. 
And are searching for Wave and for Cloud. 

As they find their children missing, 
And detect them playing, kissing 
Hidden from all sight, 
30 



Straight the aged 
Grow enraged, 

And begin to fight. 

The Sky gathers crowds 
Of lightning-girt clouds, 

And orders them out to the shore; 
Through creeks and through caves 
The sea sends her waves — 

And Heaven and Sea are at war. 

The armies engaging 
Are threatening, raging, 

To chaos the world to transform, 
And people in terror 
Call always in error 

This heavenly warfare — a storm. 



3J 



A FLOWER FIELD IN TENNESSEE 

I came to the end of a Ian( 
In a village in Tennessee, 
And lo ! by the road in a vale 
I gazed on a flowery sea! 
Fair as fancy 
Violet, pansy, 
Daffodil, daisy, 
Wild and mazy! 
Green, white, yellow. 
Velvety-mellow, 
Posy on posy, 
Ruby and rosy — 
Thousands of them! 
Thousands of them! 

Poppies all over. 
Hyacinth, clover. 
Field-wide scattered. 
Sky-bespattered, 
Sun-besprinkled, 
Pearly-wrinkled, 
Bending, turning, 
Glowing, burning — 

Thousands of them ! 

Thousands of them ! 
32 



Snow-like drifted, 
Heads uplifted, 
Sway and rollick, 
Play and frolic, 
Gay as starlings. 
Sun-kissed darlings, 
Frisking, waving. 
Sun-light craving. 

Thousands of them ! 

Thousands of them ! 
Tall and taller, 
Changing color. 
Rippling streamlets. 
Strewn with beamlets. 
Swaying, winding. 
Color-blinding, 
Light as air is — 
Dancing fairies — 

Fairies of the vale. 



33 



WOMAN 

I sail in a silvery sea, 

Each heave of the breeze — a caress; 
Will she come, will she come to me? — 

My heart is whispering: yes! 

A woman's heart, like the sea, 

Is changing with ebb and with flow ; 

Will she come, will she come to me? — 
My heart is whispering : no ! 



34 



A WAGER 

My heart and my mind made a wager; 

The heart said: to her he shall go; 
The mind, an experienced stager — 

Said: no! 

I could not decide, but for whiling 

Away the long hour — watched the sun; 

It set all aglow and all smiling — 
The heart won! 



35 



STELLA 

Her voice so sweet and mellow 
Protection sought from rain, 

So under my umbrella 
I took her 'cross the lane. 

I am a bashful fellow, 

Can well myself restrain, 

But under the umbrella — 
Of course, I tried in vain. 

I kissed her. To my sorrow, 
She left me in disdain ; 

But on the sunny morrow 
I Stella met again. 

I shamed to speak to Stella, 
But she just asked me plain : 

"Why have you no umbrella?— 
It may begin to rain.'* . . . 



36 



HEREDITY 

I wooed her — and lost her; he scorned her — and won 
her, 

Now when I think of it — perhaps she was right ; 
She would have offspring brawny, sturdy. 

With steely muscle and sinew tight. 

To climb an oak or shoot ^n eagle ; 

Be lost in the forest without a guide ; 
Dig caves in a creek, and in a canoe 

Plow the waves and laugh at the tide. 

Mine would have been with brain-stuff and soul-stuff, 
Mind-diggers, pale, with dreamy eyes; 

I wooed her — and lost her; he scorned her and won 
her. 
Now when I think of it — perhaps she was wise. 



37 



IN A CAR 

The night was without a star. . . 

The trees were crouching in pain. . . 
It was beginning to rain — 

I boarded a car. 

A solitary woman sat in the car 

Huddled up in a heavy coat; 

The tram heaved up and down like a boat; 
The woman's gaze was vacant and far. 

I sat opposite her- 

Our eyes met. 
She was not fair — 

And yet — 

At that moment she was to me very dear, 

And it seemed to me that she guessed 

All that my soul had oppressed in years long gone- 

And was ready to give me her hand — 

What wonder; a woman, she could understand! 

And if my word be true, 

There was a moment, too. 

When I was ready to put my head 

Into her lap, and shed 

38 



All the tears 
That have for years 
Been waiting in my breast 
To escape and to give me rest. . . 
The prayer of her gazes I heard, 
Yet dared not breathe a word, 
Nor even a smile to exchange. 
Alas, so near and yet so strange! 
And suddenly the car stopped and she was gone, 
And I was left alone. . . . 



39 



IS LOVE RESTFUL? 

She stood in the cornfield — a queen of Eve's daughters, 

Around her the field all ablaze. 
The blue lake behind with its clear, limpid waters 

As dreamy and calm as her gaze. 

I asked if she knew for the traveler a haven 

Where night could be restfully spent; 
She looked in my eyes — at my hair black as raven ; 

And pointed in smiles to her tent. 

Her floor was with violets decked and narcisses, 

Her canvas as white as her breast; 
And, burning beneath her passionate kisses, 

I asked her if love can give rest. . . . 



40 



ONCE SHE WAS 
(To K. S.) 

Once she was the fairest lily 

In the garden of my dreams, 
And I drank her perfume stilly, 

As a lily — heaven's beams ; 
Then drew autumn dim and chilly 

Freezing summer streams. 

Autumn drew — I needed fuel, 

Cold my heart had grown, forsooth ; 
And again my garden's jewel 

Came and brought the scent of youth- 
Spring's revival, love's renewal — 
Faith in life and truth. 

Yes, she came, and her arrival, 

Like the fabled magic ring. 
Touched my heart with Love's revival. 

Made my soul of youth to sing, 
Made a snowy head to rival 

With a heart of Spring. . . . 



41 



WHAT HAS BECOME OF THE ROSE? 
(Serenade) 

What has become of the rose, 
When summer-days close? 

I asked what became of the rose; 
But your lips when I saw 
Like a spring-blossom glow — 

I knew what became of the rose. 



Where is, oh where is the lark 
In winter-nights dark? 

I asked what became of the lark; 
But your voice when I heard 
Like the trill of a bird — 

I knew what became of the lark. 



Where hides the sun's golden ray, 
When dead is the day? 

I searched for the sun's golden ray; 
But I looked at your hair 
All beam-woven fair — 

And I knew who had stolen the ray. 



42 



Where are the stars to be found 
That fall to the ground? 

I asked where the stars could be found ; 
But beholding your eyes, 
Like the star-jeweled skies — 

I knew where the stars could be found. 

Where is the peace and the rest 
That fled from my breast? 

I searched for my peace and my rest; 
But I thought of my sweet 
Whom I never shall meet, 

And I knew who had stolen my rest. 



43 



A SHORT LIFE 

See this lily of the vale, 

Frail and pale, 

Short its life, and yet its tale 

Is of love and duty. 
How its glorious life was spent 
Shedding scent. 
Making someone's heart content — 

What a life of beauty ! 

From the moment of its birth 

Joy and mirth, 

Sweetness pouring on God's earth 

From its fragrant bosom. 
Would that my life here were too 
Lily-true ; 
Who would mind to pass it through 

Fast as this pale blossom. 



44 



UNCONSOLABLE 

Do you see this lonesome flower 

In this autumn day, 
All alone in wind and shower 

Slowly fade away; 

Like an orphaned child forsaken, 

Pale and bent and frail, 
By the angry tempest shaken, 

Beaten by the hail. 

Cheer it not with future splendor. 
Breeze and dew and ray; 

What avails? The flower tender 
Will not see that day. 



45 



JUST A DROP OF RAIN 

Just a drop of rain 
Fell upon my pane, 
Crystal pure and clear 
As a baby's tear. 

"Mother, tell me why 
Does the heaven cry? 
Has it day or night 
Not enough of light ?" 

"Nay, my child, the sky 
Not for light does cry : 
Those who always shine 
Oft for darkness pine." 



46 



TOYS 

All of us are little boys, 
We are all in need of toys. 
Some will play at ''Free and Gay," 
Some will play at "Fast and Pray," 
Some will chance the highest stake 
For a pretty girl's sake ; 
Some will play at "Let us Think," 
Some will play at "Let us Drink," 
Some will talk and some will sing, 
Some will play "My Lord and King," 
Some will play at "Shoot and Slay," 
But whatever play we may — 
Mother Earth is calling: "Boys, 
Long enough you've made a noise. 
See, the sun has hid its head ; 
Say your prayers, and go to bed." 



47 



HAPPINESS 

A horde of blind beggars 
Ashiver with cold, 

Half starving, but jealous 
And greedy for gold. 

And passing a man plays 
A joke on the blind : 
'*A dollar I fling for 
Whoever vrill find." 

They w^riggle, they struggle. 
They fight on the ground ; 

While each thinks the other 
The treasure has found. 



48 



MY DAYS 

Thus comes my day, 
And thus it goes; 

We meet as friends, 
We part as foes. 

Each day comes in 
With promise sweet, 

Each day steals out — 
A cheat, a cheat ! 

The morn I bless, 
The eve I curse, . 

And never can 
I this reverse. 



49 



THE BIG FALL 

The mount of life is high ; 

The mud of life is thick; 
Some men fall down to die, 

And some still worse — to stick. 

But all are rolling down 

The fatal muddy slope; 
Some yell, some whine, some frown, 

Some grasp the reed of hope. . 

But saddest of it all — 

That to the very end. 
And while they fall and fall — 

They fancy they ascend. . . 



50 



COURAGE 

The raven night 

Spread out its wings 

O'er a starless sky 

And loaded the air 

With unfallen hail. 
Alone on the road, 
On the edge of a rock 
He listened to the moan 
Of the wind — or a beast. 
Something was crouching 
And crawling and whining 
In the heap of herbage 

By his side. 

He sat on the stone 

And whistled a tune. 



51 



A WOUNDED EAGLE 

I was young and proud; 

I was born eagle-winged and I flew 

High up in the ethereal blue 

Above the tower, above the cloud. . . . 

And when 
Looking down upon men, 
Their struggle and their strife. 
Their game called life — 

I saw 
The earth below 

Growing red or dark, 

I stole a spark 

From a sphere above — 

A spark of truth, or faith, or love. 

And flung it there and then 

Into the hearts of men, 

Enabling them to tread 

Their path of black and red. . . 

But once in my flights 
Through aerial heights, 
Fate, the hunter, shot a dart, 
And pierced my heart. 
52 



And bleeding I dropped down 

Into the crawling, struggling town. 
And ever since that fall 
On earth I crawl, 
A wounded eagle bound 
To man and ground — 

Since then my skies are shut. 
But eagle still, 
With wings though cut, 

My piercing eyes 

Still seek the skies, 

And search above 

For light and love. . . . 



53 



APOLOGIA 

The sky 

Is high, 

And fair though far, 
Its diamond sun, its golden star, 
Bejewel day and night. 

But dark and cold 

Is my lone room; 
No stars of gold 

Can drive its gloom ; 
Upon its wall 

So dank and damp 
The rays that fall 

From my dim lamp — 

By far, by far 
More precious are 
Than sun and star 

That shed a flood of light. 

The sea 
Is free. 

Profound and deep; 

Its wave, so brave when tempests sweep, 
In calm is turned to gold ; 
54 



But when my road 

Is far from town; 
My heavy load 

So weighs me down, 
Like molten ore 

The summer day, 
My foot is sore 

And long my way — 
A brook, a breeze 
Will far more please 
And give me ease 

Than ocean wide and bold. 

Our earth 
Has mirth, 

And love and bliss. 
And woman's lips are made to kiss, 
And blood is hot. 
But tired and lone 

The earth I tramp; 
Give them the sun. 

Give me the lamp; 
For them the hill. 

The gale, the foam. 
For me the rill — 
A peaceful home. 
No passion wild, 
No love defiled, — 
A wife, a child, 

A cottage and a cot. 
55 



WHY? 

Yes, I should like to know 

Why the hours go, 

And where they go, 

And why they carry away ^ 

Day by day 

Shreds of life? 

And why this rush, and hue, and strife. 

If I am born 

A tomb to adorn? 

Born in a lampless cave, 

A blind slave — 

To toil and moil, and wait for a grave? 

And why 

Should my eye 

See and yet not see? 

And my ear 

Hear 

And yet stay deaf? 

And what is this sound 

Around, 

Below, above, athwart the ground — 

Has this strange rhapsody a clef? 

And is there a guide to lead me? 

And is there a hand to feed me ? 

56 



Or has my food — 
Whether bad or good — 
No need of host or chef? 

And why should a heart like mine 
Pulse and throb, and long and pine, 
And love, and strive, and desire — 
To burn out in an ashen fire? 

And what is life itself? 

A dusty book on a shelf 

For some magician to decipher? 

A foolish riddle that at best 

Will in a trillion years be guessed, 

When brain with cell is rifer? 

A game of ball. 

Where players run and fall. 

But never score at all? . . . 

And as these questions I did ask 
Of life, its purpose and its task — 
I heard a voice within me speak — 
Life's only purpose is to seek. 



ST 



CAN YOU? 

Can you show me a path in the desert, 
Can you find in the desert a stream? 

Can you teach me to love amidst hatred, 
Not to lose in the darkness my dream ? 

Can you kindle a torch-light and guide me, 
As a mother would guide her dear child? 

Can you smile to me artlessly — truly 

As of yore in my youth you have smiled? 

May life's autumn have furrowed my fore- 
head — 

My heart is a fountain of youth; 
May falsehood be glittering gold-robed — 

My soul is a torch-light of truth. 

Can you gaze at me maidenly-purely, 

Can you be to me sisterly-near, 
Can you bring me a lily unpainted, 

And a word that unhurting will cheer ? 



S8 



MY BOAT 

My buoyant youth is shipwrecked, 
And sunk beneath life's tide; 

Engulfed, too, is its cargo — 

My love — youth's jewelled pride. 

Around the waves are surging, 

But I still float along. 
Till pilot-death will save me-^ — 

I sail my raft of song. 



59 



THE CITY 

Gay is the city — 

My joy is gone ; 
Man-crowded alleys — 

Why am I lone ? 

Iron and marble — 

I miss the sod; 
Cloisters, cathedrals — 

Where is my God? 

Flower-complexions — 

City-wrought art. 
Bosoms are heaving — 

Where is a heart? 

Falsehood unfettered, 

Truth under ban, 
Man-heaps and brick-heaps — 

Lost is the man. 

Beautyless virtue — 

Passionless sin — 
Light on the surface — 

Darkness within. 

60 



Word is convention — 
Smile is but frown — 

Heaven the field made— 
Who made the tovrn? 



6i 



UNINVITED 

Song and sunshine In the meadow, 
Breeze and fragrance in the vale; 

''Why are you," she sadly whispers, 
"Why are you still lone and pale? 

Mother-earth with sheen and blossom 
Feasts again her day of birth ; 

Where is then your birth-gift, singer, 
Where your song of light and mirth ?" 

Dearest mine, a vagrant step-child 
I arrived here from the East, 

Homeless, friendless, uninvited 
To life's spring — its golden feast. 

Here my only mate is autumn — 
Sobbing gales and weeping skies ; 

Autumn through my breast is sighing, 
Autumn lurking in my eyes. 

Spring-tide finds me dull and silent. 
Frost in spring invades my breast; 

Lone I watch the feast of sunshine 
As an uninvited guest. 



62 



IN A SUMMER NIGHT 

I look out through my window 
Into the summer night, 

The avenues are blazing 
Alit with purple light. 

Each house — a magic tower, 
Each pane — a giant's eye ; 

Each lamp — a moon of crystal 
Suspended from on high. 

Mysterious gates are opened, 
In pairs the people stream, 

They smile, they talk in whispers- 
My heart can guess the theme. 

I dream these magic alleys 
Were lowered from above. 

For men to walk in beauty 
And harmony and love. 

But why that far commotion, 
That distant noise and hue? 

The urchins there are stoning 
An aged, bearded Jew. 



63 



I hear the urchins' laughter, 
I see the human stream; 

Gay couples smile and whisper — 
My heart can guess the theme. 

The magic alleys vanish ; 

With gloom my soul is filled; 
The peddler weeps unheeded — 

I too — my dream is killed. 



A JEWISH MOTHER 

Have you seen her eyes enkindled with a moon-lit 

solemn light, 
As she leans above her baby through the sleepless 

winter-night ? 

Have you heard her voice aquiver as she sings her 

cradle-song, 
As she praises heaven's mercy while decrying human 

wrong ? 

"Life is patience" is her maxim; "Live and wait" — 

she bids her boy; 
There is happiness in wisdom, in God's word — eternal 

joy. 

"Under your cradle is hid 
A pretty, a white little kid ; 
Under your cradle she dwells. 
Raisins and almonds she sells, 
Raisins and almonds you buy, 
Torah — God's law — from on high. 
Raisins and almonds are sweet, 
Torah will make you discreet, 
Wisdom and strength to you give, 
Teach you to suffer and live/' 

65 



See this tiny, fragile infant — gazelle eyes and hair of 

silk; 
Giant strength he is imbibing with each drop of 

mother's milk. 

Thus her mother-heart was fashioned by the centuries 

of wrong — 
Not a dove-heart half so tender, not a tigress half so 

strong. 

If you know the Jewish mother, then perchance you 

understand 
Why the Jew is death-defying, hunted though in every 

land. 



66 



EASTERN LULLABY 

Sleep, my little angel, sleep, 

Do not toss and do not weep. 

The night is deaf, the night is blind- 
Three nurses watch your cot behind — 
The sun, the eagle and the wind. 

Stays the eagle in his nest. 

Hides the sun beyond the west. 
All alone the wind does roam 
Over land and over foam; 
And to mother he comes home. 

Asks his mother: *'Where were you 

All these long, these cold nights through. 
Did you put out moon and star, 
Did you fight the waves afar?" 
"Nay, the waves I did not fight, 

Nor the stars put out by night. 

The night was robed in darkness deep 
And I heard a baby weep — 
5o I rocked it to its sleep." 



67 



LOVERS 

Soul of my soul, look at the stars — 
Sapphires scattered through ivory bars. 

One more hand-clasp, one more kiss — 
One more moment of love and bliss. 

Free is the heart as the mountain and dell — 
Let us prolong for a moment the spell. 

Life has so much in a moment to give — 
How many moments like this can one live? 

Bent is your father, your mother is old — 
What do they knovr of a heaven of gold? 

Age has extinguished youth's flame in their eye — 
What do they know of a star-burning sky? 

Can they remember a star-night — a dream 
Luring to moon-bewitched forest and stream? 

Soul of my soul — the night is so fair, 
Stars and the violets kindle the air, 

Stars and the violets kindle the blood — 
We are alone — and love is so good. 
68 



Wine is the air, and velvet the field-— 
Who to the pulses of youth will not yield? 

We are alone— oh, nay, not alone- 
God, and the heaven, and lovers, are one. 



69 



NOTHING MORE 

Think all night and think all day, 
This way, that way, every way — 
Life, at best, is but a play — 
Nothing more! 

Meditate or reason hard — 
Scoff may cynic, dream may bard- 
Life is but a sharper's card — 
Nothing more ! 

Let us then make up our mind : 
Fate — our guide — is deaf and blind- 
Chance is whipping it behind — 
Nothing more! 



70 



LOVE 

Sweetly the nightingale sang, and the echo 
Carried a passionate thrill through the grove ; 

Yielding she fell in her lover's embraces — 
Heaven, reveal not the secret of love! 

Sadly the nightingale sang at her window, 
Weepingly answered the heavens above. 

Silent her burning tears streamed on her pillow — 
Heaven, reveal not the torture of love! 

Sombre, and silent the river was flowing, 

Girding with sadness the vale and the grove — 

Mutely the black stream embraced and engulfed her- 
Heaven, reveal not the treason of love! 



71 



A SPARK FROM A WINDOW 

A spark from a window, a rap at a door, 

A barefooted step of a maid ; 
A whisper, a handshake, a kiss in the dark ; 

Two young daring hearts, yet afraid. 

The faces unseen, and yet glowing alit, 

The room wrapped in gloom — yet too light ; 

The lips that are mute and the hearts that 
talk loud; 
The eyes full of sunshine by night. 

The slow-waning moon, the horizon pale-blue, 
The breeze and the vanishing star ; 

A handshake, a kiss, stealthy steps and the 
dawn — 
A whisper — good-night — from afar. . . . 



72 



LILIES THAT FADE 

Lilies that fade like the spell of a sunset, 

Who has not cherished them sometime in life? 

Who has not dreamt of them, loved them and lived 
them 
Lilies — a sweetheart, a child or a wife ? 

Lilies that fade — the first blush of a lover, 
Lilies that fade — the first smile of a child, 

Who has not dreamt of them, loved them and lived 
them, 
When autumn the blossoms of life has defiled? 



73 



WORTH WHILE 

I have heard you complaining and whining, 
As if stars in the skies were not shining, 

And my muse has demanded a song — 
To tell you, my friend, you are wrong ! 

There is Spring with its life-throbbing bosom, 
There are meadows all radiant with blossom, 

There are children to render the earth 
A dream-land of laughter and mirth. 

There is nature for those who will read It, 
There is beauty for those who will heed it, 

Be the heaven reserved for the blest — 
There are flowers and stars for the rest. 

There is woman — Man's Goddess — world 

over, 
There is man to adore her and love her, 

There Is love and devotion and truth, 
As real and as fragrant as youth. 
74 



There are heights where no souls have yet 

hovered, 
There are emerald isles undiscovered, 

There is bliss unexplored and unnamed. 
There is happiness waiting unclaimed. 

A smile in each tear-drop is hidden, 
In each desert — a beautiful Eden — 

Life's laughter rings loud from each tomb. 
Each winter bears spring in its womb. 

And when things appear vague and uncertain, 
Endeavor to lift nature^s curtain; 

There is search-work for heart and for mind. 
And prizes for searchers who find. 



75 



FOR THE MESSIAH * 

By the Jordan stands a smithy, 
And a blacksmith in his smithy 

Day and night is toiling. 
Up and down his bellows going, 
Piff! Puff! blowing, blowing. 

Rising and recoiling. 

Molten fire-snakes environ 
Both the anvil and the iron 

Tongues of flame disgorging. 
Molten fire spitting, spitting 
While the hammer hitting, hitting 

Is the iron forging. 

Hit, hit, hammer quicker. 

Let the sparklets fly and flicker, 

And in pools expire. 
Piff! puff! bellows blowing. 
Flim ! flame ! sparklets flowing. 

Like a rain of fire. 

"Swarthy Smith, what art thou making ?"- 
"I am forging, I am breaking 



* Free from the Hebrew after Frishmann. 

76 



Iron sharp and pointed, — 
For Messiah's steed a horse-shoe — 
Hu-rah! I am forging 

For the King anointed." 

By the Jordan sits a weaver, 
At his loom the skillful weaver 

Day and night is toiling. 
On the bobbins threads of cotton, 
Vick! vick! — threads of cotton 

Spooling on and coiling. 

Through the comb he draws the cotton, 
Draws the texture skill-begotten, 

And his task not leaving, 
Rapidly his treadle treads he. 
Rapidly his fibres threads he 

Ever, ever weaving. 
Sun and stars peep through his scuttle, 
Fast as arrow flies his shuttle. 

Not a moment slowing. 
To and fro and hither-thither, 
Zick! zack! hither-thither — 

Ever, ever going. 

"Weaver, say, what art thou making?" 
"Of my choicest stock I'm taking 
Cords and threads disjointed, 
And a garment I am weaving — 
77 



Hu-rah! I am weaving 

For the King anointed." 
By the Jordan lively, gaily, 
An embroid'rer working daily 

Never, never tires. 
Pick! pick! stitching, taping — 
Multicolored patterns shaping, 

Just as he requires. 

Eye to eyelet, stitch to stitches. 
As by magic of the witches, 

Fly his skillful fingers; 
Gold and silk and silver fret-work — 
Breathe with life upon his net-work— 

He nor stops nor lingers. 

Pick! pick! fast and faster 
Fly the fingers of the master, 

Dexterous and steady. 
Pick! pick! never dropping. 
Pick ! pick ! never stopping. 

Till the work is ready. 

"What, embroid'rer, art thou fitting, 
Why are thus thy fingers flitting 

At their task appointed?" 
*'I the banner am embroidering — 
Hu-rah! am embroid'ring 

For the King anointed." 

78 



Angels six through Heaven winging 
To the Lord their praises singing, 

Onward, onward pressing 
At the throne of God Almighty, 
Hu-rah ! God Almighty, 

Pray for heaven's blessing. 



All that's fairest, all that's rarest, 
And the nearest, and the dearest 

That to man is given. 
All that's pure and good and noble, 
That in hours of joy or trouble 

Man sends up to heaven; 



Pride and truth and strength and passion, 
Grace and pity and compassion, 

Mercy never ending, 
Faith and hope and love and beauty, 
Hu-rah! love and beauty — 

Mixing all and blending. 



"What then, angels, are you making?" 
"We are gathering and taking 

Things for us appointed. 
Out of these we shape the Spirit — 
Hu-rah ! Shape the Spirit 

Of the King anointed." 
79 



"But, alas, our earthly brothers, 
Smith and weaver and all others 

Have their work completed. 
While our stuff is not yet blended, 
And our work is not yet ended — 

Thus our aim — defeated. 

See, we are not even near it — 
The completion of the Spirit 

With the stuff we're given: 
Frail all human hopes and fears are. 
Frail all human smiles and tears are 

When they reach the heaven. 

Human kindness lasts an hour. 
Powerless is human power, 

And his love — we fear it! 
Woe to us, we haven't enough yet. 
Woe to us, we haven't the stuff yet. 

For Messiah's Spirit. 

Thus at nights when winds are sighing. 
One can hear the angels crying. 

Angels disappointed. 
'Man, sublime, is not sublime yet, 
Woe to us, it is not time yet 

For the King anointed !" 



80 



THE FOUR POINTS 

The North, I'm told 
Has mines of gold, 

But there I will not go ; 
For all that's sold 
And bought for gold 

Is cold as northern snow. 

The South's delight 
Is wine and light, 

But there I will not go ; 
For light, I find, 
Like wine, may blind 

Man's sight with dazzling glow. 

The West has eyes. 
The West is wise. 

But there I will not go; 
For aeons far 
From truth we are 

The more we deem we know. 

The East has streams 
That flow with dreams, 

And there, oh there I'll go 
For dreams, in truth. 
Are light and youth — 

They make my soul-wings grow. 
8i 



THE BOOK 

A book upon my table 
Lies open day and night; 

I read it and re-read it 
With ever-fresh delight. 

I read it and re-read it, 
And never have enough ; 

It speaks the heart of nature, 
It speaks the soul of love. 

I hear in it the tempest 
Of deserts wide and far; 

The rush of rapid rivers, 
The light-hymn of a star ; 

The echo of the mountains, 
The flight of human soul. 

The searching and the seeking 
Of Man's immortal goal. 

A book that never ages, 

That breathes perennial youth 
A book whose flaming pages 

Impress with flaming truth. 
82 



I know it will inspire 

And thrill with force divine 
The heart of coming ages 

As it is thrilling mine ; 

I feel its truth immortal 
In every sound and breath, 

And know that souls are deathless, 
And know there is no death. 



83 



"ELUL" 

The Elul month is here : 
I hear the Shofar blow; 

It brings my childhood back, 
The fair-sad long ago. 

My father clasps my hand, 
And whispers in my ear ; 

"To Shul my boy, to Shul— 
The 'fearful days' are near." 

A mist enveils the field, 
The leaves fall off the tree. 

And as they fall they speak 
In warning tones to me: 

*Tair summer's bloom and song 
To gloom and cold must yield ; 

There comes a judgment day 
For man and wood and field." 



84 



A JEALOUS GOD 

(From the Talmud) 

"Akibah," once King Ruf us said : 
''Thou art in learning high ; 
Thy people hold thee great and wise — 
Now canst thou tell me why — 

Your mighty God, the Lord of Hosts — 

You will admit it odd — 
So jealous is He will not have 

You call an idol, God?" 

The Rabbi stood and for a while 

King Ruf us quietly eyed; 
And then a smile lit up his face, 

As calmly he replied: 

*'My King! I had a mangy dog. 
And Rufus was its name. . ." 
But pale with rage the king exclaimed : 
"This is unheard of shame! 

How dare you call by kingly name 
A cur — a wretched thing ! . . ." 

The Rabbi smiled again, and said: 
"There is your answer, King!" 

85 



MY GOD 

And should you ask for the name of my God, 

His nature, His dwelling, His power, 
I could not tell, for He lives in the clouds, 

As oft as He lives in a flower. 

And should you ask for the voice of my God, 

I could but point to the wonder 
That often I hear Him converse through the breeze, 

And oft through the storm and the thunder. 

And as to His dv^^elling — Fm made to believe 

His palace the high stars is over; 
But sometimes I feel that He dwells in an eye, 

When I look at the gaze of a lover. 

And sometimes I think that I am a God 

That He of me but a part is ; 
For heaven and earth are reflected in me. 

And His habitation — my heart is. 



86 



WHITE AND BLUE 

White and blue — all white and blue 
Is the banner of the Jew ; 
White as foam, and blue as sea, 
Wave-like pure, and wave-like free, 
From the God-land of his birth 
Sent to earth. 

White and blue — all white and blue — 
All the black-red ages through, 
Hordes of martyrs passing on. 
Waving banners in the sun : 
''Man, but to thyself be true — 
White and blue!" 

White and blue — all white and blue! 
Hermon-white and Jordan blue, 
Ages old, but ever new — 
"Man, be brave! 
Be no slave! 

Not the many, but the few 
Strong of heart, and pure, and true. 
Will re-paint the world anew — 
White and blue!" 



87 



TO OUR PIONEERS 

When I dream of you, comrades, your struggle and 

pain, 
How you tried and you failed, and you tried once 

again. 

From the rise of the sun to its purple eclipse. 
With a hoe in your hand, with a song on your lips ; 

You the noble, the young, unaccustomed to toil, 
With no help and no cheer, save your love for the soil, 

With your sickle and plow under East-burning skies, 
With a flame in your blood and a flame in your eyes, 

With a love-brimming heart, and a faith-glowing soul, 
And a vision afar, and a beckoning goal. 

And a dream of a dawn that you knew would come 

true — 
Oh, dear comrades, I blush that I was not with you; 

That I helped not the road of the future to pave; 
Build for Freedom a home, dig for Exile a grave. 

88 



But before in my heart all my cherished dreams fade, 
I shall join you, dear comrades, with plow and with 
spade, 

That my soul might be cleansed of its slavery-stain, 
That my last words may be : "I have lived not in vain !" 



89 



A SEMITE 

The prophets of old in my soul left a spark — 
To search in the dark. 

I wander by winding, by fate-concealed ways 
To the end of the days. 

I dream a new sunrise, I dream a new morn 
Of ages unborn. 

A beacon my heart is, a compass — my soul, 
With Zion as goal. 

There still gleams a ray in my far-visioned eyes 
Of east-glowing skies. 

I long for the palm-land, its lakes and its 

streams — 
There still float my dreams. 

I pine for the soil that my ancestors trod, — 
There still lives my God. 



90 



THE SONG OF THE PEDDLER 

The field or the garden — the grain or the grape! 
But can I — a peddler — my life-path re-shape, 
And run from my fate and the city escape? 

The ghetto-slums nursed me, and there I was bred, 
No grass under foot, and no sun overhead, 
I sweated, I peddled, I bartered for bread. 

For pennies, for pennies, my life I have sold, 
I never have known that the heaven had gold, 
That meadows had pearls unsearched for, untold. 

In rags and in bones and in scraps was my trade, 
I knew not the blessing of blossom and blade. 
To toil, and to rest after toil in the shade. 

When thirsty — to drink from a crystal-clear spring. 
And gaze at the grain in the breezes aswing, 
And hear in the distance the harvesters sing. 

I knew not the bliss and the blessing of toil. 
The pride of the man who has conquered the soil, 
And shared in the booty, and ate of its spoil. 



91 



From city to city forever Tm thrown, 
Brick of its brick and stone of its stone, 
A peddler, a peddler — despised and alone. 

And yet there is something still left in my blood 
That tells me the blade and the blossom are good- 
And I will go back to the field and the wood. 



92 



EXILE 

No, you're wrong! It is not I- 
Exile in my song does cry. 

I came out to meet the day 
On a morning of a May, 
With my harp to sing and play. 



And a sky-lark in the air 
Bade me sing while earth was fair, 
While the heavens sang above, 
While my heart re-echoed love. 

Soon as I began to sing 

Snap they went string after string, 

Visions black, and anguish sharp 

Took possession of my harp ; 

Exile fingered it — not I — 

And my song came out a sigh. 

Then a raven from its nest 
Harshly cawed: "Fate's sad bequest 
Will your song with sadness fill, 
Make it weep against your will ; 
93 



Those who sorrows of their tribe 
With their mother's milk imbibe 
Cannot sing. Their hopes are fears, 
And their sweetest songs are tears," 



94 



THE ESROG 

The Day of Atonement Is over ; 

My father an Esrog has bought, 
And never the eyes of a lover 

Did sparkle as his, when he brought 

And showed us the fruit that was shining 

With sheen of a tropical star. 
The fruit for which hearts are still pining 

From homeland long exiled and far. 

And never was valued a jewel 

As dear as the fruit was by him — 

A value the centuries cruel 

Could neither efface nor bedim. 

I looked at the Esrog the golden, 
And dreamt of the orchards of gold, 

I dreamt of the ages the olden 

That never in hearts will grow old. 

I dreamt of the rills and the fountains 
That watered those gardens of yore. 

The plains and the vales and the mountains 
That blossomless, blossom the more. . . 
95 



I looked at my father caressing 

The fruit that bejewelled his feast, 

And mutely my heart sent a blessing 
To Zion — the Queen of the East. . 



96 



THE PEDDLER PRINCE 

In the Synagogue half fallen, 

Cobweb covered, dank and damp, 

By the withered, gilt-edged tablets 
And half quenched "Eternal lamp" 

He is chanting every morning 
Songs of David — ancient psalms, 

And his kindled eyes are gazing 
On a grove of breeze-tossed palms. 

To and fro his head is moving 
In the shadows dim and weird; 

Through the dust-stained pane a sunbeam 
Gilds his long, his silver beard. 

Though the Service long is ended. 

And the congregation gone, 
Still resounds his doleful sing-song 

Like an echo far and lone. 

*Zion, Zion, Land of beauty. 
Sky-bejewelled is thy soil. . . " 

Though the House of God is emptied 
For the house of sweat and toil. 
97 



Land of Beauty, Land of David — 
Plain and grove and vale and hill, 

Where his Kings of yore have trodden 
He in dreams is treading still. 

Land of Beauty — foe-invaded — 
Unforgotten ever since. . . 

Stranger, stand aside, don't wake him— 
This old peddler is a Prince. 



98 



MESSIAH 

My brother, wait ! 

From Zion's hill 
Or soon, or late — 

Arrive he will! 

Enrobed in light 
He'll wind his horn. 

And drive the night, 
And light the morn, 

Unchain the earth, 

Renew its youth, 
And give re-birth 

To Life and Truth. 

Life's stream bedimmed 
With lust and greed, 

Is overbrimmed 

With blood-stained weed. 

And man unmanned 

In manless strife 
Has long unplanned 

The plan of life. 
99 



Till life is dim 

And man is slave — 
So wait for him 

To come and save. 

Look up the hill, 

Dream on thy dream, 
For come he will — 

He must redeem ! 



lOO 



CONGRESS 




